


Foregone

by misura



Category: The Malazan Book of the Fallen - Steven Erikson
Genre: Assassins & Hitmen, M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-22 12:37:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12481724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: Dassem took in the sight of the bandages without comment.





	Foregone

Dassem took in the sight of the bandages without comment.

_Thus, putting me in the position to either defend or withdraw, neither of which I am particularly eager to do._

"If you're here to deliver a scolding, you're the third."

Dassem smiled faintly. "The second, I would assume, being our dear lass, speaking out of concern for the one who has taught her so much about killing people that when he slips up, she takes it as a personal insult."

Dancer shrugged. He sometimes felt his contribution to Surly's shaping had been less ... substantial than people gave him (and her, too) credit for. Even so, the notion did not displease.

_It's true enough that we've raised her, after all. Lifted her up to her current position. Although, if not us, I'm sure another pair of hands might have been found._

_Though perhaps, she might have settled on a path other than that of an assassin._

"The first ... Kellanved?" Dassem grunted. "In one of his talkative moods again then, is he?"

"Not as such," Dancer acknowledged. "Rather, let us say that his silent regard was sufficiently eloquent to convey his feelings."

"His feelings. Not his thoughts? His plans? His intentions, even?"

_When has Kellanved ever seen fit to share those, with anyone? Even with me, he will only share glimpses, parts of a whole I can only guess at._

_Although those guesses are beginning to feel more accurate with every passing day, leaving me to wonder whether he trusts me to uncover his grand design without him ever speaking of it, or if he trusts me not at all and simply fails in his attempts to preserve my ignorance._

"His intentions are as they have always been," Dancer said. "To build an empire." _But not, perhaps, to rule it. To use it, rather. Because he has a need for an empire, and none is presently available._

"A worthy enough goal," Dassem noted. "And yours?"

Dancer allowed himself a wry smile. "I had hoped to avoid a third scolding tonight. The wound is not very serious, after all - the injury's to my pride as much as anything. A well-timed reminder not to get cocky, perhaps."

"Well-timed? Rather too late, I'd say," Dassem said. "If ever there was a time when you were less than cocky, I wasn't there to witness it. Not that I'm complaining, mind. It suits you well enough, and serves you even better. Who'd feel intimidated by a shy, uncertain assassin?"

"The goal of assassin, as a rule, falls somewhat short of intimidation."

"Perhaps," Dassem agreed. "Little point in intimidating the dead, provided they're going to stay that way."

"As little point in scolding a man already scolded, and humbled by it?"

Dassem scowled. "If we scold, it's with affection. It's to tell you that when you hurt, we hurt with you - when you bleed, it's not just your blood that's spilled. Even Kellanved is aware of that much."

"I'm not unaware. Merely ... tired."

"Killing people will do that to you," Dassem said. "But, fine, then. Have it your way. Come to bed for no other purpose than to rest your weary body and sleep. What's it to me? There will be other nights."

_Fewer than we hope for. Always fewer. One does not build an empire without making sacrifices after all, and time ever seems an easy sacrifice to make._

"We might have the morning, at least."

Dassem snorted. "After tonight? Not likely. I'll be up at dawn, if not earlier, and I'm not such a bastard that I'd wake you up only for some conversation. There'll be other nights, other mornings. Once we've won this war."

_What has victory ever brought us but another battle?_

"Dreaming of peace already? What will you even do with it?"

"I'll think of something," Dassem said. "When that day arrives."

_You mean 'if'. You, too, are not as unaware of Kellanved's movements and thoughts as you would have him believe. And yet, here we are, neither of us admitting to our knowledge, our suspicions._

_It is not distrust. It is, I think, merely a desire to keep simple what was ever complicated._

"Spoken like a true soldier."

"We all have our talents."

Dancer inclined his head, acknowledging the point. The scold, however mild. _We all have our talents, true enough, but mine requires to be exercised with a touch more caution, perhaps._

_After all, it is far too early in the game yet for me to quit the board._


End file.
